


Rooftops

by distractedgenius



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2020-09-28 22:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20433701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distractedgenius/pseuds/distractedgenius
Summary: You’re a scavenger working your way through abandoned apartments in Karnaca. It’s enough to make a living, but only just. The bloodflies are intense and occasionally, you still find bodies. During a job gone wrong, you quickly make an escape to a rooftop to find you’re not alone. A masked stranger sits and talks with you, both of you taking a break from the chaos of everything going on below.This was originally posted on my Tumblr, quietoneshots.tumblr.comPlease give it a follow, I usually post new things there first!





	1. Chapter 1

It was always the best day when you found another book. Even the ones that weren’t fully intact, even the ones that were boring, even the ones that were outdated and disproven long ago, are all treasures to you. School seemed so long ago, any dream of the Institute or even just further education of some sort dead and buried with everything else from the past. 

Today was going well so far. The bloodflies had been minimal, nothing you couldn’t handle with your considerably quiet methods. There had thankfully been a few edible things lingering in the recently vacated building you had scouted, and enough valuables to pay for a few days of essentials. Hopefully the black market would be kind to your finds. And of course, you would be kept company by a few treasured tomes. You were especially anxious to dig into an account of something from long ago, a brown leather-bound book that claimed to hold knowledge of the rat plagues.

There was one more floor left to search, and the minute you cracked open the door from the stairwell, slipped through, and shut it behind you, you knew this was going to be a difficult ending to an otherwise easy day. A sting of anxiety shot down your spine as you looked upon masses of bloodfly nests. You felt the cool steel of your lighter in your pocket, wondering how much damage this mass of nests could take before taking everything else in the apartment out with it.

You took too long to consider this.

The buzzing nearly immediately rose in fervor and pitch, crescendo-ing the minute you stopped to think. Your hand flew to the door knob, ready to cut your losses and get the hell out of this place, but the knob wouldn’t turn, stuck firmly in place. Your hopeless jangling only served to further agitate the hive. 

You had one shot, and it was through a window on the opposite side of the room. If your scouting had proved accurate, you should be able to shimmy up to the roof from there with hope and a prayer.

You bolted.

The bloodflies followed suit.

You threw the window open, adrenaline giving you the strength to power through. And yes, thankfully, there was enough of a ledge for you to maneuver up and onto the blessed bloodfly free roof.

You laid flat on your back, the setting Karnaca sun filtering everything gold.

Breathe. Just breathe. 

You managed to sit up, supporting yourself against a long abandoned chimney stack. 

And then, as if from the Void itself, a man materialized not six feet away from you.

He doubled over, hands resting on his knees, a strange metallic rasping emanating from him. You startled backwards in alarm, and found a weathered mask at your eye level, all clockwork and terror. The man immediately backed away, as surprised as you were to see him.

“It’s okay.” His voice through the mask was something else, something terrifying. There was no way it wasn’t on purpose. “It’s okay, I’m not here for you.” 

“How did you get here?” You asked, incredulous.

“Long story.” He slumped down opposite you, with a stifled groan.

You had barely caught your breath, and you both took the moment to rest.

“I am not as young as I used to be.” The man said, more to himself.

“What are you running from?” You asked tentatively.

“Who said I was running from something?” 

“You’re wearing a a mask and you’re hiding on a rooftop.” You sputtered, perhaps a bit too harshly. 

“I just hope no one is running from me.” He answered carefully.

“If you move like that-” You gestured to the vague direction in which he had fallen from the sky. “I don’t think you have to worry about anyone even seeing you.” 

“That’s the idea.” He mumbled. “I could ask the same of you, you know. How did you find your way here?” 

“I was scavenging the apartment. The top floor is infested like everything else in this damn place.” You bitterly thought of the possible pieces you missed, if not at least the bloodfly amber that would fetch a nice price.

The man nodded, gently rolling his neck from side to side. You heard a nasty pop. “I’ve never seen it this bad.” He cracked his knuckles.“What’s this?” His attention had turned to your bag, its contents spilling out on a plateau in the cracked rooftop tiling, and the brown leather book of the plague was within the man’s reach. 

“Don’t take it!” You immediately rushed him for the book, which he immediately dropped, hands up in a peace offering.

“Wasn’t planning to. Just curious.” Even without the distortion of the mask, his voice was probably very gruff. “That’s an old book you have there. Seen it many times in passing.” 

“Passing?” You asked skeptically, clutching the worn leather to your chest.

“I’ve been around.” He answered vaguely. “Those books never tell you about the sewers.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Experience. They never tell about the whole communities of weepers, of people doomed to perish in the muck underground.” 

“While the rich threw every party imaginable, I”m sure.’ You grumbled. You knew the drill.

This elicited a sharp laugh from the man. “Indeed.” he nodded grimly. 

“Not sure which I prefer less, the idea of rats or the reality of bloodflies.” You tucked the book back into your bag, clanking against the silverware and plates you had collected.

“The bloodflies are easier to manage, maybe. Rats could be taken care of with the right- skillset I suppose.” He tripped over the last part.

“Who are you?” 

“Nobody you need to know.” 

“Are you from around here?”

He paused, considering this question carefully. His clothes were much finer than anything you had seen in years, not since a visit from the royal envoy at the beginning of the now disgraced Empress Emily’s reign. Which was, all things considered very suspicious. “Yes.” He finally answered.

“Can I tell you something ridiculous?” 

“If you want.” 

“I think you’re Corvo Attano.” 

His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Damn.” 

You couldn’t believe it. Karnaca’s finest was laid out opposite you on a rooftop.

“Can’t get caught if nobody ever sees you in the first place. Remember that.” 

“You’re doing a terrible job at being dead.” You slyly added.

“Dead?” He seemed surprised to hear it.

“That’s what all of the higher-ups say.” 

“Don’t listen to them.” 

“I don’t.” You replied defensively.

“Good.” He scoffed. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, there isn’t a rich and powerful person in Dunwall you can trust. Although I must say, being dead is a convenient state to find myself in.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” 

The masked face considered you carefully. And then, slowly, he reached up, and with a click, you were looking at the face of Corvo Attano, royal protector, plain as day in the fading Karnaca light.

“Nobody knows I’m here. It will stay that way.” His voice was indeed rough, but he spoke to you quietly, gently. “It’s the only way to right this thing.” 

“Nobody would believe me if I did say anything.” You nodded.

You both sat together, soaking in the quiet, maybe not quite enjoying it, but at least living with this moment peacefully. 

“Best be on my way.” He grunted, rising steadily but slowly from his perch. You rose to meet him. 

“You gonna fix all this?” Something in you was compelled to ask.

“If I can.” He looked towards the darkening sky, mask clutched in one hand. The other, wrapped in blue ribbon, clenched into a fist, as if burning. Had light danced under those dressings? That hand reached into a pocket, inside of his vest, and retrieved a few bolts for a crossbow. “Take these. Incendiary bolts. Should help get rid of some of your bloodfly problems.” 

“Thank you.” It would have taken you weeks to even look at these with any hope of obtaining them. He pressed them into your palm gently.

“Stay safe.” Corvo said, slipping the mask back into place with a click, like it was just another part of him. “You remind me of somebody I care for. Stay vigilant.” 

“An honor to meet the Royal Protector.” You bowed fancifully. but your words were as sincere as anything you had ever spoken.

“But you didn’t.” He reminded you firmly, and if his facial features had not been hidden behind steel and cogs, you knew you would have found a rare smirk waiting for you.

And you blinked.

And he was gone.

1/?


	2. Chapter 2

Life went on fairly normally after your encounter with local legend Corvo Attano.

You manged your scavenging wisely, always finding just enough to get you just enough of the essentials to survive. It was more than others could say, but it certainly wasn’t the most sustainable way to live. Karnaca had been on the down ever since the infestations had grown stronger and the rich had profited even further.

There was a thread constantly tugging in the back of your mind, of what in all the worlds had happened on that rooftop. A glimmer of hope started whenever you encountered an un-ransacked bookshelf, or a hidden cache of things that any good Overseer would destroy in an instant. The Void was suddenly on your mind. The stories, the hushed whispers, the distant sigh of whalesong a faint and familiar echo.

Of course, you hadn’t found anything. Not yet, anyway. 

How much easier would your life be with a little help from the Void? Where would you find yourself able to slip unseen, pop from roof to roof without so much as a blink? 

It was tempting. But you knew, because it was so good, that these gifts doubled as curses, coming at some great cost.

Dusk was beginning to sink into the sky when you entered your last mark of the day. It was risky to be out this late still. As similar as gangs and scavengers might appear on the surface, there was quite a disdain from one to the other, and you didn’t care to get in the middle of something.

Once again, you were immediately drawn to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that dominated the parlor. In your haste to search through everything of interest, the shelf wobbled precariously, shifting to the left. Huh.

You pushed it even further to the left. It budged, just slightly. Another push and it fully slid to reveal a door frame, leading into faint darkness. There was light somewhere in there. 

Your immediate reaction was to get out of there. Darkness was not unfamiliar but it was always terrifying. That thread, the one that had nagged at you these past few days, needled even more noticably in your mind.

You stepped in.

The air itself shifted, denser and strangely purple toned. 

You found the source of that dim light. A gasp escaped your lips. 

It was a shrine.

You had never seen one in tact before. Only ashes left behind by an Overseer’s fire.

It was a small circular table, shrouded in purple fabric, maybe silk, a rare textile to find in your travels. Strange plants and bones and most hauntingly, propped in the center, a rune. A real rune. You’d only ever seen pictures, and even those rarely.

You heart was pounding. Should you take it? Would it fetch a price or just get you into trouble?

….should you keep it? Figure out what it did?

The air itself felt like a tide, pushing and pulling in the darkness. 

Something hits your wrist, before you could even lay a finger on the rune. You stagger backwards.

“Who are you?” 

Oh God, it was his voice. 

“You know me!” You stammer out. A light ignites from the shrine, sending your reeling even further.

And there he was again, just as he had been the last time you’d seen him. The disgraced Royal Protector was back in your vicinity.

“Are you-?” The mask didn’t give away any facial expressions of course, but his intentions were clear.

“I just found it, I don’t know-” 

“It’s alright. But I’m going to take this.” 

“No you’re not.” Another voice. 

It was like hearing someone you’d known all your life but had never seen. 

No footsteps echoed behind you, no tangible effects of another physical person became apparent in the room with you. And yet there was, standing just slightly off the floor behind Corvo.

“This one’s for them.” 

“Are you marked?” Corvo turned to you, awe present even in that shielded voice.

“Not yet.” the Outsider answered.


	3. Chapter 3

You'd had the wind knocked out of your chest before, lungs failing to inflate, eyes burning. It was the closest sensation to whatever you were feeling now, caught between a god and a legend. 

It was weirdly difficult to get a good look at the Outsider, always an inch to the left of the place you saw him, never quite reaching the floor, the black of his eyes an oil slick shifting colors constantly. You wondered what would happen if he tried to stay still.  
Corvo on the other hand stood stock still, immovable and unreadable. 

Marked.

The knowledge of what that might even mean, what no one would ever discuss, that notion that was never taught. Pages out of a burnt book.

You managed to muster up enough courage to murmur "What?" 

"I see what it could all be. The Empire, the Empress, Karnaca, Dunwall. And I see the crossroads. And I see you." 

You stayed quiet.

"It might not look like it now but you are in the flow of the future. I am inclined to bestow you an oar to navigate the flow."

"That doesn't make any sense." You stammered out.

"It rarely does at first." 

"Are you-" You turned to Corvo, pieces clicking into place.

"I am." The purple glow of the shrine glinted off the metal of his mask, and you wished you could see through to the face beneath.

Where the thoughts had been swirling wildly through your brain, it felt like nothing but noise now, all of the information you had just received taking its sweet time to process.

"Do I get to know why?" You wanted to ask so many questions.

"I don't get to tell you. You are the one that has to make the choices." the Outsider's gaze remained a curious sort of hollow, you were unable to garner any recognizable emotion from his stare, only a keen interest. He did not seem impatient as you pondered your options.

"Does this mean I have to kill?"

"No." The Outsider and Corvo answered at the same time, sharing a glance. 

"Your escape was brilliant once again, I might add. You always did know how to make an exit." As strange as the Outsider was in the first place, to see him have an almost familiarity with Corvo felt like falling further into a fever dream. The Royal Protector did not answer.

"Can I see?" You stepped closer to Corvo, remembering the light from beneath that blue ribbon, from the roof. It had been so etched into your brain since that rooftop meeting and you hadn't been able to see why until now.

Was it all predestined? Had your fascination with the forbidden knowledge, so all encompassing in the past few days, always been leading you here? 

Corvo fumbled with that wrap around his left hand, and offered it into the dim light, revealing the mark. You were scared by how familiar it seemed, those angles and swooping lines, hands clenched at your sides to avoid touching it. 

The minute you saw the mark, fresh as ever on Corvo's weathered hands, was the minute you knew it would never fade on your own.

"I must confess, my marked usually find themselves thrown into each others paths, but never quite like this." The Outsider's head cocked to the side, sitting (maybe? hard to tell if his body was ever resting on a surface) on the shrine, rune pressed into his palms. It was like he was reading a book that neither of you could see, considering a plot line unseen.

What was the correct word to say? 'yes'? 'I accept'?

You offered your left hand.

The Outsider immediately rose forward, but did not touch. Instead, a sensation like running water flew over your wrist and down your fingers. You gasped, feeling the rivulets streaming off of you but seeing nothing of the sort. It didn't even sting.

The Outsider inclined his head in a bow, and placed the rune into your outstretched hand. "I will be watching." 

And he disappeared. 

The rune in your hand-was singing? You held it to your ear like a seashell, wondering if that would amplify any meaning. It wasn't immediately apparent, so you put it in your bag.

Corvo still stood to your side, once again impossible to comprehend behind the mask but if you had to wager a guess, stunned would be a good descriptor of what might be going on behind the steel.

What did you even say to address any of that?   
Anxiety flooded your senses, feeling completely overwhelming after the sensory deprivation of being in the Outsider's presence. When he had been in the room, it was something like being underwater, only certain things cutting through the comforting pressure of the water and the soothing darkness. His exit was like surfacing unexpectedly into blinding daylight.

You hadn't realized you had fallen to your knees until Corvo was ever so gently helping you back up, hands braced on your arms.

Mouth dry, hands shaking, you asked, "did I make the right choice?" 

"That's up to you." He answered.

Another feeling started to well within you: power. Yes, there were so many more choices that might be available to you, constraints fading away, an overwhelming sea of possibility with absolutely no guiding star to tell you where to go. But whatever course you charted, you knew you would see it through. So much of your life had been spent trying to disappear, trying to just scrape by, whispering your words. It already seemed distant. 

"I can only assume we'll see each other again." You were steady now, and looked up into the sockets of Corvo's mask, a soft smirk starting to cross your face. That was new.

"I should think so." He glanced at the window. "Until then." And you saw it this time, his hand flexing, and that light, and then he was gone.

And you were alone. Not like before though. You plucked the rune back from your bag once more, listening intently to what it might have to say. One word cut through the echo of whale song: 

Priestess.


End file.
